Three Dollars
by classicalreader313
Summary: After things fall through with Dobie's girl, he decides to spend the rest of the day with Maynard.
1. Ice Cream Sodas

**A/N Well I'm almost finished watching Dobie Gillis and so I decided to try to write something for it. This is probably in around the first season (so Dobie's still blond). This probably won't be too long, just a few chapters, but if I don't update feel free to hound me about it. And if you want to see any characters in this, y'all can let me know and I'll try to include them.**

**So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these fools.**

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Dobie sat at the counter in the malt shop, kicking his legs aimlessly as he sucked down his strawberry soda. As usual, he had lost another girl. Her name was Eloise Quincy, and she was so beautiful, so dreamy. She had bobbed blonde hair, and brown eyes. Her cheeks were dotted with freckles and her forehead came up to his nose, which in his mind was the perfect height for a girl to be. She had the most darling figure and his hi-y pin looked lovely pinned to the collar of her blouses.

And despite the smile that often graced her features, she couldn't have given him a bigger scowl when he told her that he couldn't afford to take her dancing on the Peabody Roof. The same money she had scoffed at was now being wasted on ice cream sodas. He had spent the afternoon in Charley Wong's ice cream parlor, buying sodas and lazing around, wanting to push off going home as long as he could. Right as he came through the door, his mother would ask him how his date went, and he didn't really want to tell her. And worse than that was that when he walked in, his dad would be minding the store, listening as he recounted the miserable events to his mother. His dad was the one who gave Dobie the money to take Eloise dancing, and he didn't want him to hear about how the girl turned her nose up at the three dollars. The emotion that his dad most often was expressed was anger, but he knew that his dad felt inadequate sometimes and like he wasn't fit to provide for the small Gillis family, and he didn't want to give his dad any cause for stress.

The bell above the door rang and he looked up, seeing it was his friend Maynard G. Krebs. The boy in the shabby sweatshirt caught sight of Dobie and walked over. "Like hi, good buddy," he said cheerily. Dobie looked up at him blankly. He felt full of sorrow and loneliness, but at the same time he hated to be interrupted in his sulking. "Oh," Maynard said, nodding in understanding. "Did Eloise go quitsville on you?"

"How'd you guess?" Dobie asked glumly, supporting his head in his hands.

Maynard slid into the seat across from him. "Well, I've never seen you like drink so many sodas before."

Dobie looked up. He hadn't realized it, but four glasses were sitting around him, and there was the half finished strawberry soda in front of him. Three dollars sure could go a long way.

"Hey," Maynard said looking bashful. "Are you gonna like finish that?"

Dobie exhaled through his nose and allowed himself to smile. That was Maynard for sure. "Sure, Maynard," he answered, and slid the soda across the table to his friend.

"Like thanks," Maynard said and started to drink from the straw, imitating Dobie's pose and resting his chin on his hand.

"Like you're welcome," the teenager answered. As he watched Maynard swirling the soda around the glass with the red and white striped straw he felt his mouth tugging up to a grin. While he loved girls- loved their bright smiles and soft hair and lovely figures- but he couldn't deny that it would be nice to spend the day with his buddy.

"Hey, Dobe, what's on your mind?" Maynard asked. The question came out muffled by the straw in his friend's mouth, but the blond was able to get the gist of it.

"What do you mean?" Dobie asked back.

"Well you got that weird look on your face that you get when you're like thinking," he pointed out.

"Yeah, I have been thinking," Dobie said. "Well since I went steady with Eloise, we haven't spent too much time together. Do you want to hang out today?"

Dobie couldn't believe the smile that spread over his friend's face. "You mean it, good buddy?" Maynard asked excitedly, grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat. "You really do?"

"Sure, you're my best buddy after all. Anything you want to do! Where you go, I go." As soon as Dobie said it, he felt as if he had made a mistake.

"Like anything?" he asked, and his friend nodded. "Anything…" Maynard pondered this, his tongue poking out of his mouth as he thought. "Well, _The Monster that Devoured Cleveland_'s playing."

Dobie sighed. "When isn't it playing? Come on, Maynard, you've gotta have seen that movie a million times by now. Choose something else."

"Okay, Dobe." He paused for a minute before he spoke again, "Hey, Dobe?"

"Yeah?"

"Cleveland must be an awful place to live," Maynard told his friend, a dead serious look on his face.

"Maynard!" Dobie exclaimed, exasperated. He looked across the table at the concerned look on Maynard's face, as if imagining all those poor people being devoured by a monster time and time again, and he felt his slight frustration vanish. "Yeah, Maynard, must be. Now do you have any other ideas?"

"Well, they're like lifting the drawbridge tonight because these big old ships are coming through! Like the ones you see in movies!" Maynard chattered excitedly.

"Like in _The_ _Monster that Devoured Cleveland_?"

"No, silly! The monster like ate all those boats," his friend answered, giving him a deadpan look.

"Fine, fine," Dobie said and laughed. "To the drawbridge it is. What time are the ships coming in?"

"Five. That's in almost an hour!" The clock read 3:00, but Dobie knew that Maynard had never been good with numbers, so he let it slide.

"Well, what do you want to do until then?"

"I don't know, good buddy. What do you wanna like do?"

"I don't know. What do-" Dobie cut himself off, not wanting to start up that unending cycle. "Want a sundae?"

"Come on, Dobe. You know it's only Saturday!"

"Ice cream, Maynard! I mean ice cream!" Dobie cried out, and several of the kids sitting in booths turned to look at them. The blond blushed and sank down in his seat.

"Oh, ice cream," Maynard said and smiled, unaware of the strange glances being tossed their way. "Like sure."

Dobie called Charley over and ordered two strawberry wonton sundaes. Dobie waited at the counter for the sundaes while Maynard spun around in his seat and then, sufficiently dizzy, stumbled over to the piano and began to play a loud jazz tune. The group gathered around the piano slowly dispersed, heading off to their own booths, but a few remained, appreciative of the musical change. The blond watched his friend, smiling a bit. Charley set down the two bowls on the counter with a soft clunk and Dobie turned back. "Thanks, Charley," he said and handed him enough money to cover the cost of both sundaes.

"If you really want to thank me, you'll get him out of here before he drives any more customers out," Charley answered, gesturing to Maynard.

Dobie nodded, noticing how the crowd that usually gathered around the piano had vanished. "I see what you mean. I'll see what I can do." He picked up the two bowls and carried them over to his friend. Maynard didn't look up as Dobie came over, so engrossed in the music was he, so it took a hard poke in the shoulder for him to snap out of his focus.

"Like, hi. How'd you like it?" Maynard asked as he shut the piano lid and picked up his sundae.

"Like, wow, Maynard," Dobie answered, and his friend scooted over to make room for the blond on the bench.

"Thanks," Maynard beamed as he spooned ice cream into his mouth. He said something else, but it was unintelligible.

"What was that?" Dobie asked, and then added, feeling like a mother, "And you shouldn't talk with your mouth full."

"Sure thing, warden," Maynard teased, but then restated his question. "What happened with that chick you was going with?"

Dobie shrugged. "Nothing really, Maynard."

"Money, huh?" Maynard asked sympathetically. "Those're the brakes."

No point in hiding it. "Yeah. My dad gave me some money-"

"Stingy ol' Mr. G? Oh, come now!" Maynard exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah, Maynard. My stingy ol' dad, that just paid for your sundae, so keep your flap shut!" Dobie countered, and Maynard nodded, mouthing a 'sorry, Dobe'. The blond felt guilty for shouting, and embarrassed with the looks they were getting. He was realizing that it was inevitable. Everywhere he went, as long as Maynard was involved, he got weird glances thrown his way. "Well anyways, dad gave me three dollars to go out with Eloise, but she wanted to go dancing in the Peabody Room, and said three dollars wouldn't even cut it halfway."

"So she like walked out of you?"

Dobie nodded.

"Tough," Maynard said, and patted Dobie's shoulder. They continued eating in silence, and Dobie felt better after finishing his sundae. The sweet rich ice cream and the crispy wonton was a heavenly combination, and by the time he set down his spoon, he was just focusing on spending the rest of the day with his buddy. He took the two bowls and brought them back up to the counter. Upon delivering them to Charley, the cook gave Dobie a pointed look and the boy assured him that he'd get Maynard out of his hair in just a minute. At this, Charley broke into a smile.

On his way to the door, Dobie grabbed his friend by the arm and dragged him out into the autumn sunlight.


	2. Zelda

"Where do you wanna go, good buddy?" Maynard asked. Dobie pondered this question. They had around an hour until the drawbridge was set to go up, and returning to the malt shop was absolutely out of the question. As they walked away, Dobie could almost feel Charley's eyes on them, willing them further and further away.

Maynard however seemed blissfully unaware of the reason for their hasty departure, and he walked with careless abandon, zagging across the sidewalk and splashing in the puddles in the gutter.

Dobie considered where they could go, and could only think of one place. "I got an idea." He set off towards his chosen destination, and Maynard followed him, a new sense or purpose in his happy-go-lucky gait. They didn't have to travel far until they reached Dobie's favorite place to be.

It was the park bench in front of the _Thinker_ statue. Dobie settled into the bench in front of the statue, his hands resting on the marble. "I should've like figured we'd end up here," Maynard said. He positioned himself criss-cross-applesauce on the brick pathway by the bench, leaning back with his hands braced on the ground.

"I guess I do sort of come here a lot," Dobie remarked. Now that they were away from the talking teens in the malt shop, the blond found himself feeling a lot calmer. This place did that to him. Just basking in the light peeking through the trees that sprouted up in the park and contemplating what was bugging him by the _Thinker _made him feel a lot better. Maynard also seemed affected by the calm in the place. He took on a thoughtful look and leaned forward, his chin resting on his hands. His mouth, which normally ran a mile a minute, was formed into a pensive line. The whole atmosphere was quiet and reflective, the _Thinker _watching over the proceedings.

That is, until they heard soft footsteps coming down the path. Maynard looked up and Dobie turned to see who was coming their way. Her ponytail bobbed behind her as she walked up the path. Her eyebrows rose as she saw them sitting there, watching her. Dobie planned how to make a hasty escape, and just as he was getting to his feet and about to tug on Maynard's shoulder, her voice rang out over the small space separating her from the two boys.

"Hey, fellas," she said cheerfully and walked briskly over to them.

"Hi, Zelda," Dobie answered, his arms crossing defensively. It wasn't that he didn't like Zelda. She was a swell kid, but something about the way she always acted around him made him feel uncomfortable.

"Like, hello, small girl," Maynard greeted, looking up at her.

Zelda's brow furrowed. "You both look miserable," she observed. "What's bugging you?" Maynard shrugged, and looked back down, pulling up the grass that grew in the cool shade beneath the bench. She sat down on the bench. "How about you, Dobiekins? Or is it just 'nothing'?" she asked, putting up air quotes. Maynard looked up at the two of them as Dobie did the same as him. He shrugged.

The short girl got even more confused. "It's normal for Maynard to be so cryptic, but you, Dobie? What's going on?" She stood up and put her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side. She looked pointedly at the two boys, and Maynard purposefully ducked away from her gaze.

"Zel, can I talk to you?" Dobie asked, popping up from his seat on the bench.

"Sure, Dobie," she agreed and he took her arm and pulled her away from the statue, over to the hedges that lined the clearing. "What's this about?" Zelda asked, casting looks back at Maynard, who was now watching them inquisitively.

"Well, you know I like hanging around with you, Zelda." At this, the girl smiled broadly, her ponytail swaying from side to side as she abruptly looked up at her friend. "But you know how Maynard needs me. And I was so busy with Eloise that I haven't been spending too much time with him, but now that she's gone, I want to make it up to him."

"Eloise left you? Oh Dobie, it's fate!" Zelda cried, wrinkling her nose at him.

Before he could even think of it, Dobie wrinkled back, and then scowled at the brunette. "Zelda! I'm talking about Maynard here!" He gestured to the bench, his eyes locked on Zelda.

She looked back, seeing the vacant park. Not a soul was in sight. "Dobie, there's no one back there."

"Nobody? Oh Zelda, that's cruel," he said, looking past her. She had spoken the truth; Maynard had vanished. "Zel, you're right!"

"I guess you must've upset him," she observed, walking back to the bench and sitting down.

Dobie followed her, feeling affronted. "Why do you think this is my fault? What'd I do?" he asked as he sat down huffily beside her.

"Well, you said that you were going to spend the day with Maynard, and then I showed up, and we started talking. So Maynard left," she told him. "Those are the facts."

"Well it's not my fault! You're the one who came traipsing down the path!" he protested, his arms crossed defensively.

"How was I supposed to know that you were trying to make things right with your best buddy after you acted like a real rat to him?" Zelda shot back, her hands gesturing wildly.

"A real rat? Zelda, I didn't do anything wrong. When you have a girl, you can't spend all your time with your best friend!"

Zelda sighed, trying to keep herself in check. "Ok, I'm sorry, Dobie. I guess Maynard felt left out when I got here."

"You're right," he said, nodding. "It was both of our faults." Zelda gave him a look. "What?"

"Nothing, Dobie, but we need to find Maynard."

The blond boy nodded, slumping over in thought with his chin on his hand. "I guess I was sort of a heel to Maynard. Let's go, Zel." He stood up and the short brunette followed.

"Where do you think he'd go?" Zelda asked as the two strolled out of the park, both their minds racing as they tried to figure out where the beatnik could have disappeared to.

Dobie thought it over as they reached the street. "Well, the drawbridge goes up at five, so he wouldn't be down by the water," Dobie thought aloud. "Hey! He could've gone to the store."

Zelda nodded and said, "Yeah, good thinking."

"Let's go," Dobie said and grabbed her hand as they hurried to Gillis Groceries, the blond boy hoping for nothing but to make things right with his best friend.

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**I hope you guys enjoyed that update. I hope I didn't ruin Zelda at all.**


	3. Gillis Groceries

Mr. Gillis was practically shoving Mrs. Kenny out the door as Dobie and Zelda burst into the grocery store, knocking into the woman and spilling her groceries everywhere. This was more than the man's nerves could take. He had spent seemingly the whole afternoon trying to fill Mrs. Kenny's order while she complained bitterly about being overcharged, even though she frequented the store nearly every week. He was simply ready to get the woman out. Every time she visited, he felt like his blood pressure skyrocketed. After a particularly frustrating transaction, Mrs. Gillis had tried to soothe her husband's temper and remarked, "Herbert, she just likes to complain."

He had answered back, "That woman'll keep complainin' all the way to her grave!"

Now her piercing voice was ringing in his ears again. "Oh, Herbert, really? This boy of yours is simply disgraceful!" she cried out, throwing her arms up in the air as she looked around at the young Gillis boy, the spilled groceries, and finally the seething grocery proprietor. "Though," Mrs. Kenny continued in a much quieter tone as she planted her hands on her hips and looked around the store. "Considering where he was brought up, I can't say I'm surprised."

"Now look here, Mrs. Kenny!" Mr. Gillis thundered, but was cut off as she held up one of her gloved hands.

"Mr. Gillis, I certainly see how your boy got so unruly. Now keep your voice down- you sound absolutely primitive!"

The man was by now absolutely fuming, and Dobie was nervously standing in the doorway with Zelda behind him, waiting for his father to snap.

Winnie swooped in to save the day. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. Kenny," she said, placing an arm on her husband's arm. The grocer visibly calmed with his wife's reassuring presence beside him. "I'm sure Dobie didn't mean it. Did you Dobie? He really is a very fine boy."

"I didn't mean to run into you, ma'am. I'm sorry," the blond boy confirmed, and Mrs. Kenny nodded graciously.

"Now come inside, dear. Shut the door," Winnie spoke again, smiling as the two teenagers came into the store, the door closing behind them. Though Mrs. Gillis was doing her best to calm the edge in the room, tension crackled just beneath the surface.

"Thank you, Winnie," Mrs. Kenny spoke, her voice saccharine. "For providing a most wonderful contrast to your gruff husband." Herbert's fists clenched in anger and Winnie took a sharp intake of breath. However, she quickly relaxed when her husband remained silent.

Dobie watched, and though it was a common enough exchange whenever Mrs. Kenny came to call, it stilled baffled him. It always seemed so odd how grownups could say the meanest of things in the sweetest of voices. In that way, he admired how his father didn't let rude words go just for the sake of social convention. What he didn't necessarily admire was his father's tendency to make a scene, no matter where they were.

"Mr. Gillis, would you please pick up my groceries?" she asked as she stood by the counter.

"Go on, Herbert," Mrs. Gillis quietly urged her husband. He sighed pointedly but picked up the groceries. A carton of milk had burst and dampened his shirt and apron, which only made him feel angrier.

"I'll just get you a new carton of milk, Mrs. Kenny," The grocer said as he set down the soaked bags, which the lady immediately began looking through.

"Mr. Gillis, the bag of sugar was soaked, as was the chicken," the woman called as she continued to look for more spoiled items.

"Sure thing, Mrs. Kenny," Mr. Gillis answered, trying to keep up a cheerful tone.

"And some more crackers and flour!"

The grocer let out another sigh as he gathered up all the items and brought them back to the counter. "Let's see…" he trailed off, mentally adding up the cost. "That'll be-"

"No need for that, Mr. Gillis. Your son spoiled the first batch, so you owe me these. No sense in getting overcharged twice in one day," the woman told him.

"Mrs. Kenny!"

"Bag them up for me, please, Mr. Gillis. I'm already late for my hair appointment," she interrupted him impatiently.

"I'll give you a hair appointment," the grocer mumbled angrily to himself. It didn't make much sense, but it played a small part in making him feel better.

"Here you go, Mrs. Kenny," he said as he held the bag out to her, in a voice so sweet that anyone who knew him could tell it was fake.

"Thank you, Mr. Gillis. Goodbye, Winnie- my heartiest condolences." With that, she left the shop, Dobie and Zelda hustling to get out of her way.

"Condolences? Herbert, what did she mean? No one's died," Winnie questioned, and her husband just shook his head. His attention turned immediately to Dobie.

"What are you trying to do, boy? Send me right to the poorhouse? Right up to the mental asylum? You know that Mrs. Kenny drives me up the wall, and you have to come careening in here, knocking into her and keeping her around for another five or so minutes!" He was yelling now, his limbs gesturing wildly, his face flaring red.

"Now, Herbert," Winnie started, trying to calm her husband, but Zelda caught his attention.

"Dobie didn't mean it, Father Gillis. We're just looking for Maynard," the young brunette said, shocking the angry grocer.

"_Father Gillis?"_ he repeated, his face becoming the perfect look of shock.

"Has Maynard been in, dad?" Dobie asked.

"Has Maynard been in?" Mr. Gillis spoke back. "No, he hasn't. But that's all I need right now! That clumsy slob coming barreling through the door and sending this store right back into the stone age!"

Just then, the door opened and the bell jingled, signifying a new customer.

"Great! Here he comes now!" Herbert cried, throwing up his hands.

But when he looked to the door, it wasn't Maynard. It was little George from down the block with a case of empty bottles in one hand. "Hello, George," he greeted. "I see you've got more bottles for me."

Mrs. Gillis smiled dotingly at the boy and took the case from him, placing them on the counter. Mr. Gillis handed him a few shiny coins and sent the boy on his way. "See? If only I could have a son like that! One who works for a living instead of mooching off his poor old man," Mr. Gillis raged as George left the door and walked out of view.

"Hmmm…" was all Dobie could say, becoming suspicious.

* * *

"Like c'mon, Georgie, you know the deal," Maynard said as he opened the crate out behind the store and pulled out a case of empty bottles. After he had left the park, his first thought was of going to the record store, but Riff wouldn't let him in unless he had a bit of money to spend. Therefore, he headed to find Georgie. The boy just stood there as Maynard gave him the bottles. "You just go in, give ol' Mr. Gillis the bottles, take the loot, and give me my share," he explained. The boy gave him a look. "Like don't give me that look, kid. You can go in for yourself eventually, but I really need the loot now."

George gave him a blank look back.

"Okay, on your way." With that, the boy walked around the front of the store, moving awkwardly due to the case of bottles, making him seem lopsided.

Maynard, who had been crouched down to hand the bottles to the little boy, rocked back and sat down as he waited for George to return.

* * *

Dobie and Maynard had been filching bottles from Mr. Gillis for years, and once they had gotten too old to pull it off convincingly, they sent George in to collect the money for them. The blond boy was not about to believe that George had just decided to go into the business for himself. He knew Maynard was behind it.

Once his father was finished raging about what a good, all-American boy George was growing up to be, he said, "I'll take the bottles out back for you, Dad. C'mon, Zel."

He took the bottles and Zelda followed him out the back door, where they found Maynard sitting on the concrete, tossing a shiny dime up and down.

"Maynard," Dobie said, catching his friend's attention. The beatnik looked up.

"Like, hi, Dobe. Hey, Zel," he greeted. "How'd you know where I was?"

"We've been using that bottle trick for years now," Dobie answered back. "Of course I'd figure it out."

Zelda nudged the blond, reminding him of his purpose. "Oh, yeah," he remembered. "I want to apologize." Maynard looked up at his friend and Dobie continued, "Well, I figured you probably felt kind of left out when Zelda showed up, and today's about me trying to make it up to you… you know, being a rat and all that."

"I'm sorry, too, Maynard," Zelda said, nodding apologetically.

The boy smiled up at the both of them. "I don't like know what to say," he said. "Like thanks."

Dobie smiled back. "You ready to go? How about the record store?"

"Sure thing," Maynard answered excitedly as he got to his feet. "Small girl, you like wanna come too?"

Zelda was taken aback by the offer, but after exchanging a glance with Dobie, she nodded. "I'd like to, Maynard."

He smiled as he looked at his two friends.

"Well, let's go, buddy," Dobie said, and draping an arm across Maynard's shoulder, the trio set off towards Riff Ryan's Record Shop.

* * *

**Thank you guys for reading my little story. I hope you liked this chapter. I really like writing all the crazy characters, especially Mrs. Kenny, and little Ronnie Howard who played George. I'm pretty sure his name was George, if memory serves.**

**Anyways, I hope you've all been enjoying because it's a whole lot of fun to write.**

**See you next time!**


	4. Riff Ryan's Record Shop

**A/N Wow, has it been forever or what? I really apologize for taking like forever to update this. Honestly I just started writing again last night, so I'm out of practice, but I hope that it's enjoyable nonetheless.**

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Riff Ryan's Record Shop had a clear glass window out front, proudly displaying the name and advertising all sorts of fancy hi-fi sets and new records. Maynard eagerly pressed his face up to the glass, and through the window, Zelda and Dobie could see Riff himself with a brunette woman inside.

"Come on, Maynard, you're fogging up the window," Dobie said, and the trio headed into the record shop.

"Like, hi!" Maynard greeted cheerily, practically walking on air as he was surrounded by so many records. "You like got the new Dizz album, Riff?"

When the man nodded, the boy did an excited little jump, and, with Zelda in tow, he hurried towards the back of the shop.

"Play it just like once!" Riff called after him as Dobie approached the counter and the brunette woman leaning against it.

"Hello," he greeted. "I'm Dobie Gillis, and you're gorgeous. You are poetry, you are the moon and the stars." The woman with the sleek brown hair and wearing the sleek black dress looked up at him through her black sunglasses.

"Like, what?" she questioned, lowering the glasses, her immaculate eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, like, what?" Riff repeated, but he was too focused on keeping an eye on what Maynard was doing. "Like just once, Maynard, you dig?"

"Like, yeah, Riff," Maynard called back as he picked up the record in his hands, revering it as if it was a holy relic.

"I'll keep an eye on him, Mr. Ryan," Zelda assured as Maynard started up the record and the store filled with the sound of trumpets and jazz. Maynard's hands immediately began beating out a tune against the table, and Riff set his attention back on the blond boy.

"Who are you, my great tawny animal? I've never seen you before- I would've remembered," Dobie inquired, smiling winningly at the woman.

"She's like my wife!" Riff interjected.

"Yeah, she is kinda like a wife." Dobie nodded appreciatively, looking the woman up and down.

"Keep your eyes above the Mason-Dixon line, would you? Get lost, square!" she snapped, crossing her arms.

"Don't you like ever quit?" Riff added, shooing him off. As the blond hurried off to join his friends, Riff apologized profusely to his wife, Doris, saying "That boy like just ain't with it."

As he ventured into the back of the store, their conversation faded and the jazz music grew louder. Feeling bad about being shot down by Riff's wife- how was he supposed to know they were married?- he felt even lousier after seeing the look Zelda gave him.

"What?" he asked, immediately on the defensive.

"A married woman?" she questioned, her eyebrows raising up.

Blustering, he managed to get out, "No one told me!"

Zelda rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot, Dobie Gillis."

"Then what do you want with me, Zel? You're brilliant!" he argued.

"Exactly," Zelda answered, matter-of-factly. "It's my obligation to save you from turning into a bum. If anyone can do it, I definitely can."

"Shush," Maynard hissed to them. They had almost forgotten he was there- the beatnik had been standing there in stunned silence, taking in every note of the new music. The trumpet rose and fell and Maynard's hand constantly tapped along, improvising a beat of their very own. "Like, wow, daddio." A dreamy smile on his face, he listened to the record, his eyes shut as he tapped out his beat.

Getting an idea, Dobie headed to the front of the store. "What are you doing back up here?" Riff asked. "Look, kid, I get that you're like a pal of Maynard's, but couldn't you hang somewhere else- like, anywhere else? Asking for Lawrence Welk records and making passes at Doris here- I don't like dig you, kid."

"Mr. Ryan, I was just wondering how much a record costs. That one Maynard's listening to," Dobie cut through the man's tirade to get his thought out.

"$2.85," Riff answered and Dobie frowned. All those ice cream sodas sure had put a dent in the three dollars he had so proudly been in possession of earlier that day. Sighing, he turned around and stopped in his tracks as he looked out the window. There, walking across the street, was Chatsworth Osborne Jr. If anyone could help, it was him, the richest boy in town.

"Zelda, Maynard, I'll be right back!" he called to them as he rushed out of the store. The short brunette girl acknowledged him, but Maynard was too absorbed in the music to give more than a half-hearted wave.

"Chatsworth! Chatsworth Osborne Jr.!" he yelled across the street as he was met with the chilly autumn air. He wished for a jacket as the boy in question stopped in his tracks and peered across the street.

"Dobie-do, what are you shouting about?" he called back as Dobie approached him hastily, his shoulder bent against the chill. Chatsworth himself was wearing a blazer with a scarf wound tightly around his neck.

"Do you have any money?" Dobie asked.

"What sort of ridiculous question is that, Gillis baby?" Chatsworth replied loftily. "No Osborne leaves the house without at least 10,000 dollars in small bills."

"How do you define small bills?"

"100s, what else?"

"Hundred dollar bills!" Dobie sighed. "I guess that'll have to do. Chatsworth, could you do me a favor?"

"What sort of favor? You know, a favor from an Osborne is a precious thing."

"Precious, indeed," Dobie said, and continued. "I need $2.85 to get Maynard a record." Dobie continued on to explain all about Eloise and then the plan for his day with Maynard.

"You want me to buy him a record?" Chatsworth repeated, having taken in all this information.

"It's a special one. A new Dizz record, that's what he called it. Please tell me you'll do it, Chatsworth." Upon seeing the still reluctant look on the teenager's face, he urged, "Come on, Chatsworth. What about _noblesse oblige _and all like that?"

Chatsworth let out a sigh, and his look of pained arrogance returned to his features. "_Fiiiine, _Gillis baby," he drawled out. "Is it that lowdown establishment over there?"

Dobie nodded, and they headed towards the record shop. "Naturally it must be, to be a haunt of the hoi polloi. And you and Krebs, the hoi polloiest of them all."

"Chatsworth, cut it out," Dobie said, opening the door to the record shop.

As they stepped inside, Chatsworth said to the blond, "Don't tell Mumsie I came in here."

Dobie chuckled. "Your secret's safe." As he caught sight of Maynard and Zelda in the back of the store, he turned back to Chatsworth with a smile. "Thanks again. This is a nice thing you're doing."

The rich boy brushed it off as they walked past Riff and delved deeper into the offbeat shop. In the back, Zelda and Maynard were just where Dobie had left them, the record still spinning and Maynard still listening, his hands moving in time fast as lightning. Zelda had pulled up a stool and was sitting beside him.

"Which record is it, Zelda?" Dobie asked, and she handed him the cream colored package which held the record inside- identical to the one that spun on the turntable with abandon. Maynard didn't notice any of what was passing. He was so involved with the music that Dobie would've had to yell to get his attention. He remained oblivious to what transpired in hushed tones as the three- Zelda, Dobie, and Chatsworth- walked to the front of the shop.

"I hope they have change for small bills," Chatsworth expressed.

"Of course they do," Zelda responded.

"Maybe not for the Osborne definition of a 'small bill'," Dobie informed her, and when the small brunette gave him a confused look, he continued, "Hundred dollar bills."

Zelda let out sigh. What else had she been expecting? "Then yes, let's hope that Mr. Ryan has change for _small _bills."

After their hushed chatter, they strode up to the counter. "Mr. Ryan, we'd like to buy this record," Dobie said, handing it to the man. Buying something made him feel surprisingly grown up, even if it was being bought with Chatsworth's money.

Riff bagged up the record for them, saying, "If anyone like deserves this platter, it sure is ol' Maynard." With the bag resting on the counter between two parties, he calculated, "That'll be $2.85."

Chatsworth stepped forward, handing the man a crisp one hundred dollar bill. Riff's eyes bulged out of his head and he scrabbled to make change. As Riff poured coins and crumpled twenties into Chatsworth's hands, Dobie took the bag and headed to the back of the shop, tailed by Zelda.

"Maynard," Dobie said softly, tapping his shoulder. No response. Raising his voice, he repeated his friend's name again, this time shaking his arm.

He looked up to Dobie, a smile on his face. "Like, hi. Dizz really swings, huh?" he asked dreamily.

Exchanging a glance with Zelda, he responded, "Sure does, Maynard."

"Like the most," Zelda added on.

"Maynard, we, uh, got something for you," Dobie said, extending the bag to his friend.

Maynard took the bag, and as soon as he peeked in, his eyes lit up brighter than a Christmas tree. He jumped out of his seat and crushed his two friends into a hug, the two of them laughing with joy that the gift had made their beatnik friend so happy. "Like, thanks, Dobe. And thanks to you too, small girl," Maynard gushed as he pulled away, smiling from ear to ear, the record held to his chest like a teddy bear.

"Don't just thank us, Maynard," Zelda said. "Chatsworth paid." She jerked her thumb to the counter, where Chatsworth was just pocketing his change and turning to walk towards them.

"Chatsworth Osborne Jr.?" Maynard exclaimed, incredulously.

"Yes, Chatsworth Osborne Jr.," the rich boy himself confirmed. "Mumsie would kill me if she knew, but you all have always been kind enough to let me enjoy the simple pleasures of peasant adolescence, so I should be thanking you."

"I like don't dig what you're trying to say, but thanks Chatsie. You're not too bad," Maynard said.

"And you're not too bad yourself, Krebs baby," Chatsworth replied, smiling despite himself.

With the record tucked under his arm, Maynard and his friends left the record shop, waving goodbye to Riff, who was still in shock after receiving the high bill, and Doris, who had a portable radio in her hand, and they left the shop, stepping out into the fading sunshine.


	5. The Drawbridge

As the sun sunk below the buildings lining Main Street, the group of four diminished to just two. First, they met Vedaglio on the corner, and Chatsworth got into the limousine, bidding them "adieu" and warning them never to tell his "Mumsie" what had transpired. They gave him their word, and he was off, the sleek limo pulling away and soon out of sight.

As they walked on, Zelda informed them that it was about dinnertime, and that her dad would kill her if she were late. They nodded in understanding, and she left too. Soon their collective shadows dwindled to two shadows marking the pavement. "Dobe, good buddy?" Maynard asked.

"Yeah?"

"Like thanks again for the record," his friend said, smiling as the bag from the record shop swung by his side.

Dobie grinned. "Oh, you're welcome, Maynard. It was the least I could do, you know, since I haven't been to good to you lately."

Maynard smiled, happy with the apology. Then a thought occurred to him. "Is Chatsworth gonna make you pay him back?"

Dobie's eyebrows shot up. That possibility had never occurred to him, but with Chatsworth, it seemed likely. "Maybe I could borrow some money from my dad…" he trailed off.

"Him? Oh come now!" Maynard exclaimed, but silenced when Dobie gave him a look, remembering the fiasco that followed when Maynard had made a comment about Mr. Gillis and money in the malt shop. "Sorry, Dobe."

The blond shrugged. "Nah, it's alright. I guess I've just been a bit sensitive today." They turned down the side road that led to the woods bordering the river, where the drawbridge was located.

"Dobe, what's bugging you? Were things with that chick like real bad?" Maynard asked as the light dimmed significantly to only what peeked through the trees.

Dobie nodded. "You know the three dollars I had earlier?" His beatnik friend nodded, so he continued, "Well my dad gave that to me to take Eloise dancing at the Peabody Roof, but when I showed it to her, she told me it wouldn't be enough, and she walked out on me."

"Oh," Maynard frowned. "I'm real sorry about all that talk about how stingy your old man is."

"I complain about him enough. It's sorta unfair of me to get mad at you the one day I decide to defend him."

The two treaded further into the forest, following the path that led to the river. Dobie had been there before fishing with his father, but that had been a few years ago, so his memory of the day and the path were foggy. Maynard, on the other hand, remembered the way clearly. He often came down this way to watch the drawbridge come up.

The scene brightened dramatically when they reached the edge of the huge river. The sun bounced off the water, and boats chugged by. "Best seat in the house!" Maynard shouted, sitting down on the dirt, his legs stretched out in front of him. Dobie settled beside his wayward friend. They watched boats of all different sizes pass by, but none of them were tall enough to require the drawbridge to be pulled up.

"Oh, Dobe, you just won't believe it! When they pull that drawbridge up. Ooh, it's a real gas!" Maynard quickly explained, moving his hands to better illustrate what he was saying.

Dobie allowed himself to be filled with excitement and anticipation. He thought that, if not for Maynard, he wouldn't be sitting by the river at five o'clock. He would be out with a girl or hanging at the malt shop. This was a nice change of pace. "I can't wait, good buddy." Dobie smiled, his eyes trained on the bend in the river.

Maynard's eyes were darting all over the place, to the drawbridge, to the boats sailing down the river, to the cars that whipped across the bridge. It was so much to take in, and even though he had been down here many times, his eyes never lost their childlike wonder.

As Maynard looked all around, Dobie's concentration shifted to the day that would soon be coming to a close. Maynard really had a knack for cheering people up. He was so good and well meaning, how could Dobie not feel better? Even though Dobie had originally been apprehensive about Zelda making an appearance, it had been nice to spend time with her out of the context of the little brunette chasing him. Really, she was a good friend.

And Chatsworth. It was bewildering that the rich boy had agreed so readily to pay for the record, but maybe it shouldn't have been all that surprising. Chatsworth had always been good at heart.

These thoughts ended abruptly as Maynard grabbed onto Dobie's arm. "Look, good buddy! Maybe that's it!" It was a tall ship rounding the curve in the river, heading towards the bridge. The boat distorted the water, splitting into mosaic tiles of pink and orange and red. The ship's pipes emitted dark smoke, swirling up into the darkening sky.

The two waited with bated breath as the drawbridge rose up, and the boat seamlessly continued on its path. Afterwards, as the drawbridge lowered back into place, the friends sat in silence, lost in their own reflections. The whole thing was over in just a minute, but it left Dobie with some things to think about. He was still marveling at the spectacle, and felt his heart swell with pride, thinking of what it meant to be human. It meant building ships and lifting bridges, and loving and nurturing and being a pal. Dobie thought he knew why Maynard called people "real human beings".

Surprisingly, it was Maynard who jerked Dobie out of his thoughts. "What you thinking about, good buddy?" he asked, his eyes shining happily.

"Maynard, thanks for suggesting we come out here," Dobie said as way of explanation. "It's pretty nice out here."

Maynard shrugged, ducking his head. "Ah, it was like nothing, Dobe. You can't say you've like lived until you've seen the drawbridge go up."

Dobie couldn't help but agree. "Like true," he murmured, nodding his head.

"Hey, Dobe, maybe we should bring Zelda out here and show her. And heck, why not Chatsworth, too?" Maynard added, his excitement bubbling up. "You think they'd like to see it?"

Dobie laughed. "Can you imagine Chatsworth trekking through the woods?" Maynard joined in. "But yeah, once he got there, I think he'd like it. You know, he likes hoi polloi-ing with us."

"I like meant what I said earlier. Chatsworth really isn't all that bad," Maynard said.

"Yeah, he really is a good guy, despite being so arrogant and all."

"His blood's as blue as it comes," Maynard agreed. By this point, the sun had nearly set and the sky had darkened dramatically. The red and orange exploding across the sky had dimmed to a deep blue. "Hey, Dobe, you ready to head back?"

"Yeah," Dobie nodded, and the two got to their feet. Dobie wiped off the back of his pants and cast one more look out to the shimmering water as they started walking back the way they came. As they descended into the darkness of the woods, silence prevailed.

"Dobe, today was like the most, even though I ran off for a bit. It was real swell for you and Zelda to like look for me," Maynard finally spoke, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"I had a lot of fun, too, good buddy," Dobie answered, and the two friends shared a smile. "I feel really bad about how I ignored you when I was with Eloise, and I'll try to be better about that. But keep in mind, you can't expect me to stop chasing girls."

"Dobe, if you stopped chasing girls, me and your parents'd haul you to a shrink," Maynard assured quickly. "You wouldn't be yourself if you didn't. Why, you've been chasing girls since we was in diapers! You was always after Thalia Menninger, but you could never like catch her."

"I know, Maynard, the money problem and all."

"No," his friend shook his head. "She learned to walk before you did."

"Maynard," Dobie sighed, and nudged his friend. "I guess she did. And so did you. And then by the time I was walking, you had learned how to crawl."

The beatnik grinned. "I guess I'm kinda like… backward."

Dobie shrugged. "Well I guess so. You sure aren't like anyone I've met, but trust me, that's not necessarily a bad thing. You're a real human being, Maynard."

"So are you, Dobe, good buddy," his friend replied. "And don't worry about me. Go chasing girls to your heart's content. I just like spending time with you, good buddy."

"So do I. We gotta come down here again. Even if it isn't to watch the drawbridge. You know, we could come down here to watch the sunset or fish or something. My dad took me down here a few times when I was younger."

"I think I remember coming with you one time. We only caught one fish, but then I let it go. Mr. G was so sore at me," Maynard recalled. That was why Maynard fished by the docks, where no fish lived in the river. He sure liked fishing, but he didn't like having to kill one.

And so they came out of the woods, their view drenched with the lights from the streetlamps. Dobie came back with a new outlook on his friend, and Maynard was his same old self, but being appreciated in a way that he had never been before. Dobie draped his arm over his oldest, truest friend's shoulder, and they started towards home.

* * *

The End!


End file.
